The New Oakleaf
by HermioneK
Summary: What will Will do when a girl shows up out of nowhere on his doorstep, begging for food? Will he take her in? Stare at her while she sleeps? You bet. Picture taken from my DeviantArt account. Username: Her-my-knee.
1. Prologue

**Hello. This here is my fanfiction.**

**Disclaimer: I own an oakleaf which technically means that I'm technically part of the Ranger Corps. which **_**technically**_** means that…yeah, nothing. I own nothing.**

**So, I am completely going out of my comfort zone by writing this story. Just for your information. **

**Please realize that this character of mine is NOT in any way, shape, or form a self insert. She is not a Mary-Sue. She is not a canon-wrecker. She will not interfere with any canon-relationships. ****This is not your typical Ranger's Apprentice female original character and story.**__** I ask that you please do not bash it just because of that. It is merely a story I wrote with an original character (which, as previously mentioned, is out of my comfort zone.) placed into a Ranger's Apprentice setting. I've tried to keep my writing as similar to John Flanagan's as I could.**

**The lowdown: Normally I will update this story with one chapter every week. However, because this chapter is short, I will be publishing two chapters as a first go. Please do not give me plot suggestions. **

**Prologue**

Ember dozed silently in a corner of the art studio. She had recently finished a large art project, received her teacher's praise, and felt content. She lay happily down and drifted off. It was only when she smelled the musky, pressing odor of smoke that she awoke.

It did not take her long to wake up, for when she opened her eyes, she rePalized she was encompassed by fire. That immediately snapped her out of her grogginess. Wait, no, not completely encompassed; there was a small opening to her right, a window!

Thinking fast, she grabbed the nearest thing to her: a jug of red paint, its color reflecting the angriness of the flames licking up around her. The heat was oppressive, and that, combined with the smoke, started smothering. Filled with adrenaline and a quickly growing panic, she desperately threw the paint jug at the window, luckily breaking it on the first throw.

Crying, covered in soot, she rubbed her eyes on the back of her grimy sleeve. She lifted her right leg through the broken glass and winced as some pieces cut her ankle and leg. But that wasn't important right now. What was important was getting out alive and as far from the burning ruins of the studio as possible. Feeling thankful that the west wing was on the first floor, she nimbly pulled her left leg through the window, letting it follow her right leg down onto the hard ground. She straightened up and coughed, the smoke from the fire already permeating her lungs. As she realized that she was alive and safe, her terror started to wane, but the horrible memory of flames licking at her remained engraved in her memory.

It was only a while later, after half staggering and half running a few kilometers and sorting through her thoughts and various emotions, that she recognized an emotion that stood out from all the rest: betrayal.

She felt betrayed that no one had woken her up once the fire had started. Perhaps they had forgotten about her, or perhaps they simply didn't care. Either way, she felt extremely, and maybe a slight bit irrationally, hurt by her fellow artists. Even her teacher had made no attempt to save her from the burning ruins. She wouldn't be going back to the castle, ever. If that was all she was worth to them, why would she want to entrust her life to them anymore? She was cut too deep to ever forgive. She would make her way south, across the Tarbus River, and from there…who knew?

**Did you like it? Did you dislike it? Tell me why.**


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

"Do ye have any food?" the girl asked groggily, before passing out.

Will shouted, startled by the fact that a strange girl had shown up at his front door, seemingly out of nowhere. By Gorlog's breeches, he was a Ranger! One of the most famous, fiercest, mysterious types in all of Araluen. Were legends not told around the world of their brave feats and abilities to hear mice sneaking up on them from miles away? He should have heard if someone was coming! He could even identify Gilan's light step, and he was regarded as one of, if not the best, in the Ranger Corps at unseen and unheard movement. The fact that a starved teenage girl had snuck up on him was one that not only surprised Will, but also disturbed him.

He reached out and caught her before she hit the ground. She was light, and Will was strong, so this was not a difficult task. He then easily carried her bridal-style through the doorway and set her upon his bed. Normally most boys would have felt self-conscious if a girl was in their room, but Will hardly noticed because his room was kept very clean under the close supervision of Halt, so he had no need to take advantage of her unconsciousness by straightening his room. His bed was neatly pushed into the corner of the room, the woolen coverlets pulled over the straw-stuffed mattress, and his chest, containing his clothing and personal belongings, lay on the floor beside the bed. His bow leaned majestically against the wall by the door, the string disconnected from the wooden shaft, just the way Halt had pounded into his head that he should do. He also did not know her, so there was really no reason to feel embarrassed about anything. At least, not yet, he mentally added.

Because Halt was away on a short hunting trip, Will had been left in charge of the cabin for a few days. Will secretly figured that the real reason Halt was hunting alone was because he needed a respite from Will's incessant questioning, rather than the fact that he was worried about burglars in the area, as he had told Will.

Will busied himself about the quaint, little cabin while waiting for the girl to wake up. He put a kettle of water on to boil and sat, watching it. He stood there for what felt like at least ten minutes, impatiently tapping his foot, and could practically see Halt in front of him, raising a mocking eyebrow, and repeating one of his many mantras: "A watched kettle never boils, you know. But don't let me stop you. Feel free to sit there staring and tapping your foot until horses start flying." So Will decided to sweep the kitchen for the second time that day. It was merely something to keep him busy, not a necessity for the floor. He also refilled the two glass vases with yellow sunflowers from outside the cabin.

As soon as he heard the water screech as it reached its boiling point, Will added the beans and other ingredients and made his coffee. He drank it appreciatively and made his way over to his room to get a better look at his new guest.

He quietly opened the door and winced when it squeaked; however, the girl only rolled over and did not wake. Will sat at his desk that ran parallel to his bed and scrutinized the girl with his big, brown eyes. She had dark red hair that was actually red, not a misnomer for orange, but dark red, almost the color of embers that had been left burning. It was a little longer than shoulder-length, and appeared as if it was hastily cut. It was quite curly, and there was a strip of stretchy cord tied to her right arm that Will presumed was for tying the hair back when it became too encompassing. She was skinny, as if she had not eaten for quite a while. Will could see through a tear on the sleeve of her green, velvet dress that there was a long scar running from her left elbow to her left shoulder. Seeing as her leather-booted feet did not hang over the edge of the bed, Will figured she was probably about the same height as him, which meant she was short. She had the appearance of once being muscular, but starvation had cheated her looks away.

Suddenly, she opened her eyes and Will gasped, inadvertently spitting a large mouthful of coffee on her. She coughed and used his blanket to wipe the coffee off her face. He also coughed, extremely shocked.

"S-Sorry!" Will hastily apologized between coughs. "I didn't mean to stare!"

The girl sat up on the edge of Will's bed and continued to cough. Will, having recovered faster, thumped her back, wishing there was something else he could be doing.

When her breathing finally became normal, she looked up at Will's face and saw a look of concern on it. "Got any food?" she immediately asked.


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Will busied himself about in the kitchen, preparing food for the girl. She sat in the corner of the kitchen, watching him silently over the rim of her coffee cup that Will had given her. He surreptitiously glanced at her every couple minutes out of the corner of his eye, just to make sure she hadn't left him or was part of his imagination. Naturally, she noticed every time.

When the food was finally ready, Will set it upon the table and then sat down across from the girl. They silently encompassed each other for a while.

"What's your name?" Will asked.

"Ember, on account of me hair," she replied around the food.

Will nodded. That made sense. "Where are you from?"

"Castle Redmont."

Will was surprised. He had spent his entire childhood there with his four friends, Alyss, George, Jenny, and Horace. In fact, he had moved from there to the cottage with Halt when he was fifteen. "Why did you leave?" he asked, now quite interested in this strange girl.

Ember said nothing but continued to eat her food. When she finished, she frowned but held Will's glare evenly. "It's a long story."

Will held his hands in an open gesture, signaling that he had all the time in the world.

Ember sighed, and took another sip of her coffee. "This tastes weird."

"We add honey to it."

She screwed up her nose, staring into the dark brown liquid swirling inside her cup. "That's an odd thing to do," she said in her customary abrupt manner. "Hmph. Well, maybe I could get used to it."

She stared at the coffee for a while longer, and Will was beginning to wonder what could be so terribly fascinating about adding a little sweetness when she suddenly spoke up again, and from her words, it was clear that it hadn't been the honey that she was pondering, but his previous question. "Well, when I was a little girl, there was a fire in me house."

"A fire? How did that happen?" asked Will, leaning forward in his seat.

"There was a spark because me parents left the fire running too long. I was eight, and it was nighttime. I grabbed me sister and threw her out the window, which is how I got this scar," she gestured to the scar Will had noticed earlier on her left arm. He had the decency to look abashed.

"Me arm got caught on a nail. We waited ages for our parents, but they never came out. Fire got 'em."

"Then what did you do?"

"We wandered a bit from city to city, and paid for the food and rooms by helping out in the inns. Cleaning dishes, making beds, that sort of thing.

She paused to take a sip then continued in the same detached and factual manner. " 'Bout two years later, when I was ten, we got captured by a band of Skandians-"

"Skandians?!" Will cried. "Surely not them!" Skandians were some of the toughest sea-farers around. Will had a hard time believing that they had taken two young girls as slaves.

"Yeah, Skandians, and I have the scars to prove it! Now will ye let me tell me story?" Ember said belligerently, glaring at her interrupter.

Will nodded his head and bit his lip, determined not to make another peep.

"Since they couldn't ransom us, they took us on as slaves." Will winced. Not too long ago, he, too, had been captured by Skandians and forced into slavery. He had almost died and was saved only when Evanlyn had come to his rescue. The other slaves forced him to become addicted to warmweed, the dangerous drug used to keep him in servitude. "Finally, one day, I jumped over the side of the boat when we got close to shore. But I couldn't take me little sister with me-" she stopped for a moment, choked, and wiped tears from her eyes. "I still haven't seen her since then.

"After that I wandered to a farmer's place. Him and his wife took me in for a year, but when they had to move to Norgate, they couldn't take me with them. So they dropped me off at the Castle-"

"But surely we would have met you! There were four other orphaned kids there too!" Both Ember and Will groaned as they realized that he had, yet again, forgotten to keep his mouth shut.

"-But not at the proper place where orphans are supposed to be dropped off," she continued. "I got dropped off at the West Wing, which is the art wing.

"Master Philip saw me before Baron Arald did, and decided that he wanted an artist apprentice. So I trained with him. Actually got pretty good. But then the art wing burned down, and I ran away, which is how I got here."

Will was shocked. A fire in the castle? How could that be? But now he finally understood why he had never seen Ember in the castle. He was sad. She would have made a great addition to their group of orphan misfits.

After she finished, Will impulsively asked, "So is Ember your real name?"

"No. Me real name is Gweneviere Selwyn, but it sounds like poison coming off me tongue, so foreign it is. Folks at the art wing used to call me Ember."

"How did you get from the castle to here?"

"Well, I just kind of hoofed it. I don't have no horse, you see, so I had t'walk."

"You were hungry when you got here." He said it as a statement, but his tone implied it as a challenge or a question.

"I'm not very good at hunting….I've never had to hunt for me own food before, so I hadn't eaten in two days." She said it hesitatingly, as if she was embarrassed by her lack of knowledge.

Will was impressed by two things: one, by the fact that she had made it all the way from Castle Redmont in two days, and two, the fact that nothing worse had happened to her in those days. He said nothing, but his eyebrows rose slightly, giving him a surprised expression.

Ember looked around the cabin. "So do ye live here by yerself? Kind of a big cabin for one person, don't ye think?"

"Halt lives here too. He's out on a hunting trip. Or at least that's what he's told me…"

Ember and Will sat in silence for a few minutes at the dinner table with their remains sitting on their plate, waiting for someone to clean them up.

As a Ranger, even as a mere apprentice, Will was highly trained to be alert for the smallest of noises, not limited to the swish of a cloak as it rubbed up against a bare tree branch or a person breaking a twig. Now he heard something while more or less also sensing it. Gone was the curious host as Will snapped back into his vigilant Ranger mode. "Don't move," he whispered urgently to Ember. "We've got company!"

**Hope you guys liked it. :) Reviews please? I hope I get more this week…Anyhow, who do you guys think will be the company? A band of rowdy Skandians? Will's long-lost cousin? Halt? Tug, trying to get apples?**


	4. Chapter 3

**Oops…forgot: I would like to thank my wonderful beta, Sauron Gorthaur. She completely exceeded expectations and my story would be nothing without her help. Much appreciated.**

**Sorry for forgetting to update last week. I dislocated my knee at soccer, so…things were busy being at the hospital and all…**

**Chapter 3**

Will ducked under the table, pulling Ember with him. "Stay here, and don't move. I need to find out who is outside."

Will used the snake-crawl technique that he had worked so hard to perfect to effectively slither to his bedroom. He emerged moments later with a strung recurve bow nocked with a black-shafted arrow. He crawled back under the table, ears sharpened, and waited, keenly listening for any sound. When none came, he crawled to the back door, and slipped silently outside, keeping his back pressed to the wall and staying crouched down. If he stayed crouched and someone was around the corner, it would be a lot harder for that person to see him. People usually expected to see a face at eye level, so they were typically not in the habit of looking down. _People usually see what they want to see…_Will figured that Halt's mantras would never leave his mind, ever. The senior Ranger certainly seemed to have used every tool in his arsenal to make sure this was case, in Will's opinion.

Ember waited impatiently under the table, her knees to her chest, her pulse beating twice as fast as normal. Her breath came in short, rapid gasps, and her eyes were dilated to the size of dinner plates. Her fear encompassed all of her thoughts. She sat, tense as could be while waiting for Will.

There came a loud crash and yelling from outside, which caused Ember to jump in surprise. She started, and her head hit the table. She cried out in pain and sat, rubbing it. She moved into a better position to see what was happening outside when she heard, "You! What the hell are you doing?"

Then, moments later, two men came back inside. The shorter one, Will, was enraged. "The heck do you think you're doing, sneaking up on us like that?! You couldn't just come up to the door like a normal person?"

The taller one simply laughed. "Well, you weren't supposed to answer the door. I was trying to sneak up on Halt and catch him with his breeches down. But anyway, come on, embrace your inner Ranger!"

"Inner what?" asked Ember, getting up from under the table. She had decided it was safe enough to come out now. Despite Will's rage, it was clear that he knew the handsome stranger whose cheerful demeanor and smiling face didn't look too threatening.

She was halfway emerged, her torso out from under the table with her hindquarters underneath, when the taller one asked, "Oh? And who's this?" He raised an eyebrow.

"I'm Ember." She straightened up and dusted off her skirt. "Pleased to make yer acquaintance." She curtsied then shook his hand.

"Well, no, the pleasure is all mine, Miss Ember. And you may call me Gilan," he said, going into a deep, theatrical bow and kissing her hand.

Will raised his eyes to the ceiling, an expression that instantly reminded Gilan of Halt. "You two are so dramatic," he said. "Stop it, Gil. Otherwise Jenny's going to have a heart attack."

Gilan gave Will a look of mock dolefulness. "You've been spending too much time around grizzled, old Halt! You're no fun, Will. Loosen up." He gave Will's shoulder a squeeze and shook him back and forth.

Will decided to ignore the friendly taunt and brushed Gilan's hand off his shoulder. "So what are you doing here?" he asked. "What about your fief? Or have you been too lazy to take care of those poor innocents?"

Gilan snorted. "Like the people of Redmont fief are in better hands just because you and Halt are taking care of them."

"The people here lead beautiful lives of luxury," Will said, grossly exaggerating the lifestyle of Redmont's folks in a jibe with Gilan.

"So why are ye here?" Ember interrupted, anxious to satisfy her curiosity. She sensed that this quibbling could carry on for a lengthy amount of time.

"My fief is currently being run by a recently-graduated junior Ranger," Gilan said. "Crowley wants to test his skills, and so he thought that I could afford some time off while the new Ranger is tested to see if he can be proven capable of handling his very own fief. I decided to come here. Where's Halt, by the way?"

"He's out hunting," Will supplied.

Pleasantries aside, Ember's curiosity took hold. "So what were ye saying about 'embracing your inner Ranger'?" She cocked her head to the side, and Will couldn't help but think that she looked like a curious little bird in that position.

"It's what we are." Ember's blank stare prompted Will to continue. "We work for the castle. We train for a period of five years in knife-throwing, archery, unseen movement, and survival skills. When there's trouble, we save the day. Ever heard of the saying '_One riot, one Ranger'_?" Ember shook her head. Will wasn't entirely surprised. If she did not know what a Ranger was, what were the chances she knew any of their sayings? Still, Will could not believe that she had spent a few years in the castle without having heard _something_ about them. Word must really have not gotten to or from that art wing…"Well, there're lots of little sayings, and a lot of bigger legends about us. Most of them are pretty exaggerated-"

"-Like the one about Halt wrestling a bear with his bare hands," Gilan interrupted with a mischievous grin on his face. He watched Ember's eyes grow large at the thought of a man strong and large enough to kill a bear.

"-but not by much," Will concluded.

"So ye two are Rangers?" she asked, receiving a nod from both Will and Gilan. "Well, I want to be one," she simply stated.

Gilan snorted. "What makes you think you could be a Ranger?"

"What makes you think I couldn't?" She answered a question with a question in a way that Will knew Halt would hate.

"Well," Will started, and two pairs of eyes, one brown and one grey, turned to face the apprentice. "It does take a lo-ot of work." Gilan could see that Will was leaning in the direction of his opinion. "But,-"

He was cut off by the persistent sixteen-year-old. "Well, why don't ye try me?" A daring gleam lurked in the corner of her eyes, matching her rigid posture. Will shrugged.

"Sure, why not?" Gilan said in a disgruntled, sardonic manner. "We train every day for five years. We practice archery until our fingers go numb, and tactical skills and mapmaking until our eyes are weary. We practice throwing knives, and too often cut ourselves in the process. We ride horses until our bums are saddle-sore. And then, on top of all that, we have to go on missions for the King whenever he so chooses." Gilan took a breath, implying that he was going to say more. He also noticed the fire in her grey eyes did not go out, but on the contrary brightened when he mentioned missions for the King. He now regretted saying that last line.

"Ye could always try me out…" she interrupted.

Will regarded Ember, thinking about Gilan's list of necessary Ranger skills. The girl's jaw line was rigid and her eyes fiery but excited; and stubbornness and energy were certainly assets when faced with typical, day-to-day, difficult Ranger problems. Her green velvet dress was practical, not too loose and not too tight, with sleeves that stopped short of her wrists and a skirt that stopped several centimeters above her ankles. Throw a mottled Ranger's cloak over it and perhaps… It was a bit scuffed up, but that was no surprise if she really had spent the last several days in the wilderness. She held herself with a stiffness that would benefit an archer, and he could already imagine a heavy saxe knife in one of those clenched fists. And he knew personally that being a tad on the small side was hardly a disadvantage when it came to stealth. Not to mention people would easily underestimate her. _She really could be something, couldn't she?_He couldn't help but feel excited at this new opportunity. "I don't know Gil, we could try training her to see what she's made of. After all, being a Ranger isn't so much about the training. It's about what you're made of in the first place." Ember's subtle change in expression said, _Well, I'm made of some tough stuff._

"Are you mad? We're not even authorized!" Gilan protested.

"Well, sure we are, Gil. You are at least. You've graduated and haven't taken an apprentice yet. You know Crowley wouldn't care; he's always eager for new recruits!"

"Not like this he isn't. I mean, she's...she's a...a..." Gilan stopped short, not quite sure how to voice his concern that Ember was a lady, and he was pretty sure that ladies were not allowed to become Rangers. Girls usually became couriers if they wanted to do something like that.

"Are ye saying I couldn't be a Ranger just because I'm a girl? What's that got to do with anything?" cried Ember despairingly. She could feel her one chance at her dream slipping away through her fingertips, with nothing she could do to stop it.

"Girls aren't as strong. Have you tried shooting a longbow with a ninety pound draw weight any time recently?" Gilan said matter-of-factly while crossing his arms and standing at his full height. His eyebrows were furrowed into a deep frown, and he gave her an irascible glare. He towered above Will and Ember. Being lanky was an unusual thing in the Ranger Corps, but it had its uses. Gilan was a much more opposing figure than the average Ranger.

"Besides, remember I was a Skandian slave? It's not like I got weaker during that time. Carrying all that water did make me stronger, ye know. I've already got strong arms." She was completely unintimidated. She, too, straightened her back and stood at full height.

"Gilan's right, the longbow is the Ranger's primary weapon, and drawing one of those things is no easy task," said Will, taking an analytical view of things. Maybe George was rubbing off on him.

Gilan squinted his eyes, sizing her up. "Very few people, _men or not_," he emphasized, "have innate skills it takes to be a Ranger. It's not just strength. You have to be cunning, quick on your feet, things of that nature."

"Well, can't ye try me out before this Halt gets back? Where's the harm in that?"

Will raised an eyebrow at Gilan, as if saying, she has a point. "We can just give her a taste of what she would be doing as an apprentice until Halt gets back, and then we can talk to him about it, and if he approves, great!"

Gilan eyed Ember a few seconds longer. The comment about her having been a Skandian slave had surprised him, and he knew that Rangers were chosen for certain innate qualities, like ingenuity and fortitude, more often than for physical reasons. The slender Will and the unimpressively short Halt were prime examples of that. "Wait a second, why do you even want to be a Ranger? You didn't even know what they were a few seconds ago."

"It sounds…interesting," she said. She couldn't meet Gilan's eyes, a fact that he most definitely noticed.

"What's your real reason?"

"That is me real reason."

"No, it's not; now, don't lie. Lying's never gotten anyone into the Ranger Corps., and it never will."

Ember sighed dramatically. She toed the floor and fidgeted uncomfortably.

"It's okay to tell us," Will said comfortingly. "I didn't even want to join. But now I wouldn't trade it for anything. And Gilan here," Will nodded to him, "he wanted to join because his Dad said he couldn't. So what's your reason?"

Ember cupped her head in her hands; she was clearly agitated. "Well, it's just…ye see…me sister."

"What?" both boys said.

"Well, I had to jump over the edge of the ship and leave me sister behind. Now I'll never see her again. I never want to be powerless like that again. I want to be able to help people." She snapped her head up, looking Gilan and Will straight in the eye with a hard glare.

"Ah, I see," said Gilan. This was a much more probable and acceptable answer. He couldn't relate, per say, but he did understand her feelings. His own father had, in fact, told him similar stories many times.

"You can't say no to _that_!" Will cried. "Please, Gilan?" he whined in a very un-Ranger-like way.

"He'll say yes whether he likes it or not," Gilan nodded.

"Thank ye!" cried Ember, encompassing both boys in a rib-breaking hug.

Will silently remarked that she was stronger than she looked, and probably stronger than they had both been when they had started their training. He knew himself the rigors of life under a Skandian slave owner, and he recalled all too well how Ember had snuck up on him unobserved only a few hours ago. Gilan's scrunched up face showed regret, but something else Will recognized: hope.

**Whoo! Long chapter. Spread the news of this story to your friends ;D**


	5. Chapter 4

The three woke at sunrise the next morning. Will, Ember, and Gilan packed their provisions into three almost identical brown burlap bags. Foodstuffs such as bread and carrots were brought, along with something else vital to survival: coffee. Apples were packed for the horses.

"We should go on horseback," said Gilan, referring to the training ground they were going to. "Otherwise it'll take at least an hour to get there."

"And I want to start practicing!" Ember called eagerly.

"But we only have two horses…" Will refuted.

Which brought them to their current predicament: how would three people ride two horses?

"We'll just have to double up," Gilan retorted matter-of-factly. He swung himself up on Blaze in one sweeping motion. Sitting upon his horse, Ember couldn't help but think that he looked quite majestic. The beams of sunlight shone on Blaze's fur, and she practically glowed. Gilan looked powerful and lean while he towered over them.

Will finished tying up his saddle bags, and motioned for Ember to climb up first. She raised her eyebrow at him and looked quite disapproving. She'd never ridden a horse before. She put her left foot in the stirrup, as she had seen Gilan do previously, and put her left hand on the saddle horn and her right hand on the rear of the saddle.

"Wait!" Will sharply called. "Get down!"

"What?" Ember obediently shied away from the horse. She was very nervous, and wondered what she could have possibly done wrong already.

"You have to say _'Do you mind?_' to Tug before he'll let you ride him."

"Do ye mind?" Ember repeated.

"To the horse, not him," Gilan called cheerfully over his shoulder, amused at Ember's confusion.

Will was a little nervous: Would Tug throw her off because of her dialect and different syntax? He certainly hoped not.

Feeling foolish, and even more nervous, Ember walked over to Tug and whispered, "Do ye mind?" in his ear, and then retook her previous mounting position. With one hand on either side of the saddle and one foot in the stirrup, she bounced a couple of times on the ball of her left foot, then jumped and swung her right leg over the side. Once she was sitting comfortably, she straightened her back and looked around, surveying the world around her from this new point of view. She looked less nervous now, and beamed at the prospect that she had finally climbed upon a horse. Tug snorted.

Will inwardly gave a sigh of relief as he realized that Tug would _not_ be throwing her off any time soon.

After triple checking that they had all the supplies that they'd need, Will nimbly mounted the horse and took the reins from Ember. She sat behind him in the saddle, her body posture mimicking his. Her legs swung over the sides of the horse and rested behind Will's legs. She wrapped her arms around his waist and felt his strong abdomen muscles flex and contract with the rhythm of the horse.

Tug shook his mane and his bridle rattled. He almost seemed to be saying, _Of course, you would give _me _the extra passenger. _

Ember shook her head. What a silly thought. Who'd ever heard of a horse talking?

Will, Ember, and Tug took the lead while Gilan and Blaze walked slightly behind and next to them, his pace matching theirs. Their destination was the archery field: the same one where Halt had taught both Will and Gilan. Feelings of nostalgia crept up on both of the boys.

After about half an hour of riding, they arrived. All three let their packs fall to the ground in various spots, resounding with a dull _FLOOMP._

Since Will was the better archer of the two, although not by much, he had agreed to instruct Ember in this matter. It was something Gilan and Will had argued about last night:

"So the first step in training her is archery," said Will.

"Yeah, and when will you teach her?" asked Gilan.

"Tomorrow-hey, wait, who said I'm teaching her?"

"We both know you're the better archer. It only makes sense for you to do it."

"No, I'm not! I'm an apprentice; you're graduated. And besides, you've had a lot more experience than I do."

"Will, you're going to teach her tomorrow, and that's final. Remember, I'm still not convinced this is a great idea. I'm just along for the ride." And with that, it was settled: Will would be the one to teach Ember.

Will dismounted first then offered Ember a hand. As she shifted in the saddle, she felt the burn in her thighs. Her legs also felt a little wobbly. She managed to swing her legs over the saddle, and with Will's help, she dropped to the ground. Her legs still felt as if they had Tug's girth between them.

Will gave her a sympathetic grin. "First time riding, eh? Don't worry, it doesn't last forever. You'll be fine soon enough."

Ember managed to return a small smile then followed the two Rangers. When she was sure they couldn't see her, she surreptitiously rubbed her sore behind.

They stopped in the middle of the field and Will strung his bow, while Gilan stood off to the side observing silently. Ember shifted impatiently from foot to foot as Will dug around in his pack, then approached her with a bow. "Put your left hand on the bow, that's your bow hand, and straighten your arm out, holding it at chest height," he said. "Then take your right hand, your string hand, and pull the string back to your chin, which is your anchor point. But under no circumstances should you _ever_ fire this string without an arrow. That's called dry-firing, and it's very, very, _very_ bad for the bow."

A look of understanding passed over her face. "Can I shoot it?" she impatiently asked.

A distant memory surfaced in Will's mind. "If you feel that's a good idea," he said, echoing the words of his mentor from so long ago.

Ember closed her left eye and aimed with her right. The tip of her tongue protruded from between her lips. Will watched, for once not saying a word. Gilan stood off to the side, face covered by the cowl of his cloak. In reality, he was observing Ember. She nocked an arrow and pulled the string back. The bow's draw weight was an easy ten kilograms, so she did not have too much difficulty. When she reached maximum draw length, she paused and aimed at a large oak tree about five meters away. She released the string, letting it slowly roll off her finger tips and fire the arrow. It shot way off to the side of the tree, but not before the string slapped her arm. Will winced, recalling the whacking feeling on his left arm as it was struck by the bow string. Gilan felt the corners of his lips twitch into a sadistic smile. He recalled that feeling only too well.

"Oh, that's okay-" called Will. "No, really," he amended on second thought. There was no point in giving Ember false praise. Will stepped toward Ember, holding out the leather arm brace that he'd taken out of his pack. "Wear this on your forearm so that the string doesn't hit you this time. You just need to turn your left wrist away from your body so that your elbow-" he stopped talking.

Ember had not said a word this whole time; she had not cried out when the string stuck her, nor had she dropped the bow as a result of shock and pain as Will and Gilan had done before. She took the brace from Will, but strapped it on her right forearm instead of her left, and she also switched the bow from her left hand to her right hand, clumsily nocked another arrow, and drew back the string with her left hand. The tip of her tongue had now become a regular member of the gang as it continued to protrude from her lips. Ember paused, aimed, and then let go of the string. The arrow sailed into the tree. It wasn't a bull's eye, but it was a definite improvement from before.

"Are you left-handed?" asked Gilan. He was surprised, but he didn't let his disbelief show. Being left-handed was quite uncommon in Araluen. One might gather an entire army of men and discover that none were left-handed.

"I have no idea," Ember said truthfully. Her hands had really never encompassed a pencil before, as she had spent the better part of her life as a slave or an artist. And she didn't really paint or draw. She tended to gravitate towards sculpting or pottery or other three-dimensional objects. She was never a scholar, as those sorts of things were not usually taught to girls, so she had no reason to ever hold a pencil.

"Let's test it out," suggested Will. He produced from his bag a piece of brown leather cord whose material looked quite similar to the corset Ember was wearing. Attached to the leather cord were two knives: one was larger and heavier, and the other was more...dainty. Will gave the heavier knife to Ember and instructed her on how to grip it. She did so, with her right hand, and aimed for the same spot on the tree. The knife shot off into the distance, almost three meters to the right; the throw was terrible. The knife wobbled and the path of flight was not straight. Ember said not a word but slunk off into the forest to retrieve her blade. Gilan and Will exchanged quiet glances, but nothing more. When she had returned, she switched her stance, placing her right foot in front of her left and squaring her shoulders. She tilted her head to the left and closed her right eye. Ember pointed her right arm out in front of her in order to help her aim and get maximum torque when throwing. This time, the knife hit the tree.

"That felt loads better the second time," she said, the feeling of relief clearly evident on her face.

"Looks left-handed to me," said Gilan.

"I suppose we're going to need a new scabbard," said Will regretfully. He ran his hands through his hair and glanced ruefully at the right-handed scabbard that he had brought with him. The belt clipped on the right side, where the owner's hand would naturally gravitate. The scabbard for the two knives was placed on the left hip, so one could easily draw and hold it with one's right hand. It was designed for someone whose right hand was dominant over his or her left. Which made sense, he thought to himself. Ninety-nine point nine percent of people in all of Araluen were right-handed. Of course he would have the luck to find one of the few who wasn't. "Leave it to Ember to need completely different equipment."

She merely smiled, not at all feeling guilty for her quirkiness.


	6. Chapter 5

The sound of her own teeth clacking together awoke Ember the next morning.

Yesterday afternoon, after archery and knife-throwing lessons, the three had ridden their horses back to the cabin. Will had cooked dinner (he seemed to be the chef of the group, noted Ember), and she and Gilan had gratefully eaten it. That night they did not build a fire or tell campfire stories. They merely went to bed. Will slept in his own bed, and Gilan offered to let Ember take Halt's; he declined to take it when she offered it back to him, instead saying he would sleep on the spare cot in the living room.

When Ember stood up in the cold morning air, she decided she would build a fire to alleviate the chill. She had never actually done this, but had seen Will do it before, so she figured it was not that hard to do.

She was mistaken.

She knew, at least, that fire needed wood, and that it had to be dry. Since it had not rained for several days, this was not a problem. She grabbed some wood from a tree that had been previously felled by lightning, and carried it back to the cabin. As she did this, she realized how sore her arms were. She did not think that she had worked that hard yesterday, but now, as her arms protested carrying the large chunks of wood, she felt tightness that she had not even noticed was there. Her legs ached from riding Tug. She stretched her sore muscles out, working out the kinks after setting down the wood. Maybe this Ranger training was going to be harder than she thought.

Thoughtfully, she grabbed a bucket of water from the nearby stream, should the fire encompass more than the allotted amount of firewood.

Now, she set the logs up in a triangular fashion and rubbed them together, hoping to see a spark. She was sadly disappointed. There was no such spark.

After quite some time rubbing the sticks together, or so it seemed to her, smoke rose from the logs. She cheered excitedly, but stopped when the fire did not start. There was not even a spark!

She moaned in frustration and jumped when she heard laughing behind her. "How long have ye been standing there?" she exclaimed in surprised anger.

Gilan laughed and strode down the porch steps. "Long enough." After a pause, "You need kindling, first," he said in a knowing manner. He walked off into the nearby forest.

"What are ye doing?" Ember called after him, but Gilan silently continued walking. He returned a few moments later, holding something in his hands. She glared at him and asked, "What's that?" Her questions reminded him of Will.

"Kindling."

Ember rolled her eyes, but watched as he set it up. Gilan produced a flat rock from his pocket. "What's that?" she asked, unable to conceal her curiosity.

"Flint rock." Gilan struck it against his belt buckle, and Ember recoiled in shock as sparks burst forth suddenly. He bent down, over the kindling, blew a few times to get it going, and watched as fire took hold.

The two of them knelt next to the fire to warm their hands. They were both appreciative of the warmth it provided. It chased away the early morning chills and gave them their own personal heat source. Ember gratefully basked in its warmth, as it soaked into her stiff limbs and eased some of the ache. She crouched and balanced nimbly on the balls of her feet next to Gilan. Hundreds of loose pebbles surrounded the fire, and suddenly her foot slipped on some of the miniature stones. Her arms flailed about as she tried to right herself and regain her balance, but to no avail. Gilan reached out to grab her, but his hands had nothing to grip on account of the loose, green velvet. It was too slippery and slid right through his hands. To his horror, he saw Ember tumble into the flames.

Her screams pierced the quiet morning.

Gilan quickly pulled her out and held her close, smothering the remaining flames that threatened to lick her clothes and skin. Panic started to creep up on him, and he fought it down. He couldn't afford to panic, not when Ember was counting on him to help her. He wasn't too keen about Ember yet, but he couldn't just sit by and let her burn.

"Will!" he called, running to the river behind the cabin. If Ember's screams hadn't already woken him, Gilan's shouts would. This situation had a sort of déjà vu effect on him. He remembered long ago when he was apprenticed to Halt, he had gotten burned whilst pulling a hot tray out of the oven, and Halt had immediately doused his burned fingertips in cool water. His fingers had hurt for a week though, and it was a rather annoying pain.

Will met him outside, his hair still mussed from sleeping. Ember and Gilan's screams had awoken him, and he tried to rub the sleep from his eyes. "Wha's goin' on?" he slurred, blinking rapidly.

"Ember's fallen into the fire," Gilan said hurriedly, while they both ran to the river.

Reaching the river, Gilan all but threw her in. "Sh, Gilan," Gilan said. "It'll be okay."

"What in the name of Gorlog are you talking about?" Even during a crisis, Will couldn't contain his questions.

Though he was still half-asleep, Will's instincts had kicked in and he had brought with him the Rangers' first-aid pack. From it, he procured burn salve and white gauze bandages. "This'll sting," he said sympathetically to Ember while administering the salve to her burns. He applied a lot to her hands. The burns there were the worst because she had reached out in front of her to break the fall.

Ember gave a sharp hiss as the salve was rubbed on her hands. It hurt. She glanced down at her splayed palms. They were red and raw, but also covered in thick, yellow, goopy cream. Basically, it was not a pretty sight. Its one redeeming factor was its smell: it was quite comforting. She sat, watching, not really processing everything. She was scared and in pain, and try as she might, tears welled up and slipped down her cheeks.

"Ever had any pets?" Will asked, trying to keep her mind off the situation. Halt had done the same thing to him before, when he had sprained his ankle tripping over a fallen tree branch. He wrapped the gauze around her hands, ripped it with his teeth, and tied it with a knot.

"A dog." She flinched as the bandage rubbed roughly on her palms. "She was beaut'ful. Golden, so we called her 'Goldie.'"

Gilan raised his eyebrow at the simple name.

"I was seven," she shot back. How could he expect a seven-year-old to pick out a better name? Besides, 'Goldie' was a perfectly fine name.

Gilan helped lay Ember on the river bank. He felt like Halt, and wondered briefly if this was how Halt had felt when Gilan was younger. "You youngsters bounce back fast," he said. "You'll be fine."

"Gilan?" asked Will incredulously. "Gilan?" his voice rose a little in pitch. "Halt?" he finally tried.

"Yes?"

Ah. So _that_ was it. In his slight panic, Gilan started having an 'out-of-body' experience. Halt had told him it was quite common in emergency situations. He'd never seen it first-hand though. "Well, uh, Halt," said Will through a grin. He couldn't help himself: it was actually funny. And it was entertaining to be the apprentice in charge of his master; usually, it was the other way around. "We need you to…um…rip the sleeves off." He knelt beside Gilan, and helped tear off the sleeves of Ember's dress, where they were singed. They poured water over her burn marks on her forearms, wincing as they heard the unrelenting _hiss _of the water turning into steam.

Will next applied the salve to her face.

"That'll sting for a while, eh?" Ember said. She giggled nervously at the end, trying to lighten the mood. Her eyes crossed as she tried to keep Will's dabbing finger in focus. He was like a butterfly, she remarked. So quiet and agile, moving from place to place, always with a purpose.

Gilan nodded while they both helped her up. She winced when Will, unthinking, grabbed her hand.

"Sorry!" he said, squeezing his eyes shut in embarrassment. "So, so, sorry."

"It's okay," Ember said through clenched teeth. Hurt like hell, she thought.

The three walked back into the house, which was bathed in a gray light that shone through the east-facing windows.

Ember sank gratefully into a chair. "I hate fires," she muttered.


End file.
